


Unrequited

by Strange_johnlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Everybody is in love with Sherlock Holmes, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, John Watson & Molly Hooper Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Post-Reichenbach, Pre and Post Reichenbach, Reichenbach Feels, Romance, Season 1-4, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:49:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strange_johnlock/pseuds/Strange_johnlock
Summary: “How about you? Since when?”“Since the beginning, I guess. I mean, it took me a while to admit it to myself. Men… men usually don’t do it for me. He does. He’s… I don’t need to tell you what it is about him. You know him. He is Sherlock."Both John and Molly are in love with Sherlock Holmes. Now they have formed a club.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Kim, for beta reading

“You and I should have a club, you know?” John doesn’t know anymore exactly how the topic came up. He only knows that he and Molly have been talking quite often over the past few weeks, about everything and anything, while Sherlock has been looking at specimens under the microscope or doing things to corpses he should not be doing. They talk openly, but quietly, so as not to disturb him. They also know Sherlock is never listening to them.

It’s a weird kind of friendship that only exists because they both have nothing better to do than to wait for a gorgeous and infuriating man to do what he does best. They have coffee, and sometimes John brings cake. Mrs. Hudson has made scones and they are eating them at one of the tables in the lab, which they shouldn’t be doing.

“The club of People Secretly and Unrequitedly in Love with Sherlock Holmes.” It’s the first time he has said that out loud in front of another person, and Molly looks surprised . She would have never expected John to be so open with her, he knows. They have been talking about her feelings for Sherlock a lot, maybe because they are so very obvious on her face every time she looks in Sherlock’s direction. John’s own emotions, although known to both of them, have never been a topic.

“That’s quite a sad club. And a very long name.”

“PSULSH. Rolls off the tongue easily, I think.” John smirks, flicking some crumbs off his sleeve. “And it’s good to have someone to confide in, because we must be mad for feeling how we feel.”

Molly nods, her eyes going back to Sherlock, who is looking into the microscope, while furiously scribbling down something into his notebook. “It is. And we are,” she says, and she sounds so sad, John feels the need to hug her.

“Since when?” John asks, looking at his fingers. Molly giggles nervously, fingers fiddling with the hem of her lab coat. She does that a lot, and he knows she feels insecure. He does not understand why. She’s smart, and funny, when she doesn’t try too hard. She deserves someone who acknowledges that.

“I… I thought he was scary, in the beginning. He’s quite intimidating when you first meet him. And then I noticed how special he is. I mean, he is rude and horrible most of the time, but he is just - special.” She smiles an embarrassed smile. “He told off a guy who was very obviously flirting with me.  The guy was a colleague, and he was very direct, made me feel uncomfortable. And at that moment, I thought Sherlock might care for me a little bit. That’s when I noticed how I felt about him.” Her eyes are on Sherlock again, and there is a longing in them John knows just too well, and he hopes he is better at keeping his own face under control.

“How about you? Since when?” He owes her an answer to that question, he knows. She has been so honest with him, and now that they are in the club, now that they are suffering from the same affliction with a mad man, he needs to tell her.

“Since the beginning, I guess. I mean, it took me a while to admit it to myself. Men… men usually don’t do it for me. He does. He’s… I don’t need to tell you what it is About him. You know him. He is Sherlock." 

John Looks at the Floor, then up at Molly. " You’re the first one I’ve told, actually, about the unrequited love thing.”

“We should have a secret handshake.” Molly smiles. “We are pathetic.”

“We are. We have a crush on a man who probably doesn’t know how the word is spelled.”

“Must be worse for you. You live with him. Oh god, you probably see him fresh out of the shower. He’s very sexy with damp hair, I’m sure. Tell me!” Molly looks at him now, cheeks flushed.

“You sound like a teenager, Molly.” John giggles. “And yes, it sucks sometimes, not to be able to be with him the way I want to. But then, I could never give up this life. He’s brilliant, and I’m honoured to be his friend.”

Molly smiles at him, and he can see a little bit of pity in her eyes. She elbows him in the side, but only lightly. “Secret handshake,” she says.

_____

“I think I need to throw you out of the club.” Molly smiles one of her sad smiles, as she leans against the kitchen table. John invited her over for beer and Doctor Who, something he can’t really do with his only other friend. The great detective is out, doing Something Very Important, and for once John is glad of it. It gives him some time to breathe.

He gets the ice cream from the fridge and gestures at her to get some spoons. “The club?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot about the club? We founded it almost a year ago, in the lab, don’t you remember? PSULSH. People Secretly and Unrequitedly in Love with Sherlock Holmes. You have to remember.”

John does, now that she mentions it. It’s the basis of their friendship, this club, somehow. It’s the reason they are having ice cream right out of the box like teenagers after a break-up.

“I’m afraid you can’t throw me out, Molly. I’m still in love with the bastard. Even more than a year ago.” John sits on the sofa, turning to look at her. “I’m still in the club, Molly.”

“I know you are, John. It’s obvious, John, on your face, on your blog. I know you well enough. And I know this isn’t my place to say, but I am your friend and I want you to be happy. So, I’m throwing you out of the club, because your love for Sherlock Holmes is not unrequited anymore.”

John’s spoon drops to the floor with a clank. “What…? Why would you say that?”

“The way he looks at you, John. I have never seen him have a friend, a real friend. And I think he didn’t see it coming. Maybe he doesn’t even know himself, yet. But Sherlock Holmes is in love with you.”

John leans down to pick up the spoon, rubbing it against the hem of his jumper to clean it. He forces himself to look up at her. He knows she is very convinced of what she is saying, but John just can’t believe her. He wants to, so very much, but he can’t.

“Molly. Sherlock doesn’t do feelings, okay? He doesn’t do romance. And I think you are seeing something that isn’t there, and I know you are being kind, but I can’t, for a second, believe in what you are saying, because if I do, it will break my heart.”

“John, I’m sure he…”

“No, Molly. He is the love of my life. I am not that for him. So please, just shut up about this. I’m still in the club.”

“But he lo…”

“SHUT UP.” John jumps to his feet, hand shaking in a tremor. He regrets his tone immediately when he sees her startled face. “Sorry, I’m sorry, Molly. Let’s just change the subject, okay? Let’s watch another episode.”

She nods. “Okay, then. Come sit. We have a lot of ice cream to finish.” She touches his shoulder when he does, and he nods at her in apology.

_____ 

“I may be out of the club, John,” Molly says, standing on the front steps of 221. “I met someone. He’s no Sherlock Holmes, no genius detective. But he’s a good guy.”

John hugs her, kisses her cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Molly. So happy. And I’m gladly letting you go. The club will be fine, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not worried. But thank you, John. Good night.”

_____

 

Molly places of a cup of tea next to John on the table. She seems more nervous than usual, but he doesn’t care. He cares about nothing, right now. He is not sure he can ever care again, not like this.

“I guess we need a new club,” she says, and he knows it is meant to be a joke. She is socially awkward, has always been.

Still, these days, rage is the emotion easiest to deal with. So, rage it is.

The cup hits the wall, the horrible white wall of his horrible new bedsit, and hot tea splatters everywhere.

“GET OUT! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU. I DON’T WANT TO SEE ANYONE. AND I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF A STUPID CLUB. GET OUT, OR I WILL MAKE YOU.”

She is afraid, he can see it. She has taken a few steps back, hands up to protect herself. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He wants to hurt himself, bash his hand against the wall until something breaks. He is in so much pain inside. A broken bone, fifty broken bones, would be nothing in comparison. He turns away from Molly, buries his face in his hands, as the tears threaten to come. He hasn’t allowed himself to cry. Watsons don’t cry.

The door clicks shut behind her, and John is glad. She should not see him like this.

“He’s dead,” John says to the closed door. “He’s dead, and I still love him.”

_____ 

“PSULSH is dead, you know.” John is sitting in Molly’s small kitchen. He has only been here two or three times, and that was years ago. “I lost him. I got over him, thanks to Mary. Now I got him back, and maybe I can even be his friend again. But PSULSH, that’s over, for both of us.” Molly looks up from her cup. She looks so small, sometimes, so young. He knows she is stronger than she looks. “We don’t have a club, anymore. I would still like to be your friend again.”

Her smile is surprised, but honest, and he smiles back. “I’m sorry about how I treated you after his … after he was gone. And then I was mad about you being part of his big scheme, and I said horrible things to you. I’m sorry about that as well. I would like to be our friend,again.”

She gets up and pulls him into a hug. “I was always your friend, John Watson. Stop being stupid.”

John smiles and holds her.

_____

“Molly and I used to have a club.” John places three plates on the kitchen table, and Rosie immediately bangs the spoon against hers. He kisses the top of her head and offers her the first pancake.

Sherlock looks at him quizzically.

“We said we would be honest with each other, after all that happened after Mary. Ella said we should be honest, because being dishonest is part of why I am so angry. So, Molly and I used to have a club. After what happened in Sherrinford, maybe I should consider asking her about opening it again, our club.”

“John, you are speaking in riddles. I hate riddles, as you very well know.” Sherlock sits down next to Rosie, his blue dressing gown opened over his pyjamas. He looks sleepy, and that might be John’s favourite look on him. No one else gets to see Sherlock this way, only him and Rosie. It’s intimate and beautiful. And John wants to ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek and convince him to eat another pancake.

“I want to be honest with you, Sherlock, and I understand if you… find this weird. You might need some time to get used to the idea, but so many things have happened between us, and I can only fix them by being honest. So, I need to tell you that both Molly and I… Well, I shouldn’t speak for her.”

John keeps his hands busy by making more pancakes, as Sherlock helps Rosie with her food. He is better at feeding her than he is at feeding himself. “PSULSH stands for People Secretly and Unrequitedly in Love with Sherlock Holmes. And I was. That. In love with you. I still am.”

Maybe it’s bad timing, bringing this up over breakfast, after John has moved back into Baker Street two months ago. Maybe it would have been better to give him the whole truth before the move, so Sherlock could have decided if he wanted a man living with him who had a crush on him. More than a crush. But two months ago, he hadn’t been ready. He was ready now.

And now, this was Sherlock’s to deal with. John has done his job, and he feels relieved. The secret is out, and he can feel a weight lifting off his shoulders. They can start anew after this, he is sure.

Sherlock blinks. He is not moving, only breathing and blinking. Rosie touches his arm, mouth opened with an “Aaaahhh”, and Sherlock picks up the fork to feed her a piece of pancake.

“You are… in love with me?” he asks. John has never heard that tone of voice from Sherlock Holmes. He sounds unsure, and John hates that. Sherlock is confident, arrogant, never unsure.

“Yes. I have been for a while, and I know it’s unfair that I never told you. You are my best friend, and I should have told you earlier.”

“I never considered forming a club with all your ex-girlfriends.” Sherlock interrupts him. “But I never liked any of them, so maybe that’s why. Also, forming a club with people who share the same feelings is very immature and weird, John. So, I must ask you to stop this humbug and dissolve your ridiculous club.”

He gets up and walks to the window. He leans down to pick up his violin, but then straightens. John watches every step, heart thrumming in his chest.

“Dissolve your club, John. Kiss me instead.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Kim and Amelia. You are brilliant!

_“Dissolve your club, John. Kiss me instead.”_

_John can’t move. Three words, and he feels paralyzed by a thousand thoughts all  at once. Sherlock Holmes, not two seconds ago, asked him, John Watson, to kiss him. The first instinct is to take two large steps, pull Sherlock to him, and kiss him until they are both dizzy. He wants to pull on dark curls and bite plump lips until they are red. He wants to taste every sip of breath that leaves Sherlock’s mouth to be his, every moan and curse and every ‘John’. Those cheekbones invite him to run his thumbs along them, before he pulls Sherlock closer for one more kiss, until the kisses bleed into each other._

_He doesn’t move. He can’t move._

_“I have to agree with you, John. This is very scary, for the party who must watch. A reaction would be greatly appreciated.”_

_A flash of memory. The two people I love most. Only, that has changed. The people he loves most are both in the flat with him right now. Rosamund Mary Watson and William Sherlock Scott Holmes._

_John smiles, looks down, bites his lips. When he looks up, Sherlock is still standing by the window, and there is something vulnerable in his eyes that finally makes John spring into action._

_He takes two steps towards him and pulls Sherlock into a hug. Sherlock has to bend his back, and John gets up on his tiptoes a little bit, but they manage. John holds on. He holds Sherlock, forehead against his neck and shoulder. “Margaret, my therapist, she said that honesty is the most important step…” He takes a deep breath. “Our friendship has suffered so much, and I know I’m to blame for that. I know that and I just want to fix things between us. This, me telling you about my feelings, I was being honest with you and I never expected... this.”_

_Sherlock’s hand is on the back of his neck, and John remembers the feeling. Suddenly, he is close to tears. He is overwhelmed, and the only thing keeping him sane is Sherlock Holmes._

_“You always were the brave one, John. We would have danced around each other for the rest of our lives if it weren’t for your bravery.” Long fingers find John’s face and carefully lift his chin, until he is looking up at his best friend. “I’m in love with you, too.”_

_And John, who is not as brave as everyone thinks, takes Sherlock’s hands, moves them from where they are resting on his neck, and takes a step back. The surprise, hurt, and fear in Sherlock’s eyes break his heart._

_“We just got our friendship back, Sherlock. I don’t think we should risk it.” He looks at the detective. Honesty. He promised honesty._

_“You really want to waste more time on not being together?” He is right, of course. From the first “married to my work” to the last “anyone but you”, they have wasted too much time. They have both loved from afar, and pined for each other, and called it unrequited. One could say they were part of a shitty romcom. And Sherlock is right, that has to stop. No matter how much they have hurt each other, and how much there is yet for them to fix, they need this now. They need each other._

_John giggles. He doesn’t know why, but giggles are his body’s first reaction, so he goes with it. “God, no,” he says, and then Sherlock giggles too._

_It’s happiness, mixed with nervousness, mixed with relief and excitement. It’s the most wonderful feeling._

_Sherlock takes the step forward, and then he kisses him. It’s not wild and lust driven, a spark that erupts into a wildfire. It’s the briefest touch of mouths, John’s bottom lip framed by Sherlock’s warm, soft ones. It’s a soft press, an inhale of breath, a surprised, excited sound. Rosie is in the kitchen, turning her pancake into a battlefield, and two ambulances pass by the window in quick succession. It’s loud, and the opposite of romantic, and it’s just what John always wanted without even knowing._

_John smiles against Sherlock’s mouth. “Let’s not waste any more time.”_

 

John wakes up surrounded by everything Sherlock. He feels the warmth first, Sherlock’s arm draped around his middle his against his neck, his head on John’s chest. The second thing John notices is the wonderful smell of Sherlock’s hair. Honey. His hair smells of his honey shampoo. And John is addicted, with his drug finally accessible to him.

John doesn’t open his eyes just yet, because he doesn’t want this moment to be over. This is his first time waking up next to the man he has loved from afar for so long, and John knows he will never forget a second of it. He doesn’t open his eyes, because the sight of a sleeping Sherlock Holmes might just be too beautiful for him to even comprehend.

He doesn’t comprehend how he ended up here. Just eight hours ago, he made a confession with the intention of strengthening their tarnished friendship. Now, Sherlock Holmes is his boyfriend. Well, they haven’t talked about the term they are going to use, but that is what it comes down to.

They are wasting no more time. They are also taking it slow.

Both Sherlock and John are fully dressed in their pyjamas, but John’s hand has ventured awfully close to Sherlock’s backside under the loose t-shirt the detective is wearing. Of course, John has considered stripping every piece of clothing off Sherlock’s body one by one, kissing porcelain skin. And Sherlock would have let him. But slow, that’s what they deserve. The first time he wants Sherlock Holmes naked in his bed, he wants to take his time. Maybe he could call Molly later and ask her to take Rosie for the night.

Molly.

A wave of guilt washed over him, and John clenches his hand into a fist. Molly still loves Sherlock. If Sherrinford has taught him anything, it is that Molly hasn’t gotten over her feelings. And John has just left their club without warning her, not by falling out of love, but by suddenly having the ‘unrequited’ part removed.

She will be happy for them, John knows that. Molly Hooper is kind like that. But she will also be heartbroken, and John feels sad for his friend.

“The mind palace is my invention, John Watson, and just because we share a bed now, doesn’t mean you can have one too.” Sherlock’s voice is rough with sleep and it sends shivers down John’s body. He finally opens his eyes, and he was right. Sherlock Holmes is beautiful just after waking up. His hair is tousled, curls pointing in every direction, and he has sleep in his eyes. John tips his head down to kiss the skin just next to Sherlock’s nose, still not really believing he is allowed to do that now.

“Good morning to you too.” He says. And just for now, Molly is forgotten again.

_____

 

Molly gets up from her chair when she spots him through the window of the tiny café. They have been here a couple of times during lunch breaks, and she seemed happy when he suggested it via text yesterday.

“Oh, John.” She says, as soon as he approaches her. She knows. John doesn’t know how, but she must see something different in him. “I’m so happy. Finally.”

Molly opens her arms and he accepts the hug.

“How did you know?” John asks, as they sit down. She has already ordered him coffee, and he realises again, what a good friend, a good human being she is. It’s about more than the coffee. She is happy for him, honestly happy, and he doesn’t deserve her.

“It’s like the glow people see in pregnant women. You just radiate happiness. And I know, that could be anything. But you look at me, and I can see the guilty conscience. So, it’s about Sherlock. You… kissed?”

John can’t stop the smile, or the guilt. It is a strange combination to feel both, like an elevated version of getting a good grade in maths for once, when your friend had an F. “We talked. We kissed. We shared a bed, and then we kissed some more this morning.”

Molly touches his hand. “Don’t feel bad for me, John. I know I never had a chance with him. He was always unreachable for me, because it has always been you. And even before that. I mean, he is…”

She looks down.

“He’s very gay?” John suggests and Molly erupts into giggles. John ignores the fact that everyone is looking at them. He laughs with her, because he is so very happy. He is Sherlock Holmes’ boyfriend, how could he not?

“I want to know every naughty detail.” Molly says, when they finally calm down. And John tells her.

_____

“I knew about Molly, and her feelings for me. Her face is almost as easy to read as yours. I acted rudely towards her, in an attempt to make her stop. John, you are not listening.”

“Kind of busy. And I don’t want to talk about Molly just now, okay?”

“You said, intercourse is not only about the physicality, but two people sharing something very intimate, not holding anything back. Molly is a friend to both of us. I haven’t talked about this with you before, so the information was… oh, yes, that feels… hmmm. The information was held back from you until now, so I felt the need to share.”

“You are way too eloquent still, so I think I should put more effort into what I am doing.”

“It might shut me up, if you finally take your pants off, John.”

“Maybe I like teasing you.”

“Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly… no, stop. That tickles. Stop.”

“You are a horrible man. Now, kiss me, and then let me make love to you. And my name is the only one you will scream from now on, understood?”

_____

<Can you come over tonight? Need someone to talk to.>

<Sure. Can I bring Rosie?>

<Yes, I’d love to see her. Bring the little angel.>

<Be there in half an hour.>

_____

<We are spending the evening with Molly.>

<Girl’s night out? SH>

<Ha ha. You are the funniest man alive.>

<I know. And the most brilliant. SH>

<Are you still at the morgue?>

<Yes. SH>

<That’s why Molly wants to talk to you. SH>

<How do you know that? No, don’t answer. I’ll see you tonight, love.>

<Bring milk. SH>

______

 

"What's wrong, my love?" Sherlock looks a little sulky. He took a sleeping Rosie from John's arms and carried her upstairs, but when he returned, he just flopped onto the sofa, head on John's lap, nose pressing into his thigh, and didn't say a word, not even about John forgetting the milk.

 

"Hmmpf" is the answer, and John starts stroking his fingers through dark curls. He knows better than to ask again. "We watched Disney Movies, had ice cream. It's a little cliché, but it helps. She barely talked about you. I guess she just needed the company."

 Sherlock turns his head just enough for his next words to be audible. "What did she tell you?" Sherlock asked

 

"That you came to the morgue and talked about Sherrinford briefly and then listed reasons why it was stupid to love you. I only agree to one of those, by the way."

 

"It was the appropriate thing to do. She needs to fall out of love. I gave her a twenty-point list. Even kept it short, so she would understand." John smiles, tugging at Sherlock's shoulder until he turns around.

 

"That list isn't what made her sad, love. You tried to help. You were being nice"

 

"I called her stupid"

 

"You were being nice, and she had one of those moments where she realised again that she loved you. I have those at least twice a day, by the way"

 

"It's not logical. .."

 

"It isn't. Love rarely is. You and I can't help her in this. The only thing you can do is give her space if she asks for it."

 

“Sentiment.”

 

Sherlock says nothing more, just closes his eyes ,and John knows he has lost him to the mind palace. He reaches for the remote control and switches on the TV. Ten minutes later, he is asleep.

 

_____

"John." He is barely awake. His neck hurts from sleeping weirdly on the sofa.

 

"Hmm. "

 

Sherlock sits up, legs framing John's thighs. "Which one of the reasons do you agree with?"

"Number 20. The rest, that's just you, with all your flaws. They don't make you less loveable."

 

Sherlock leans down to kiss him oh so softly.

 

"They just make you very annoying."

 

"John! Could you just remain being flattering once you started? "

"Reasons Not to Love John Watson. He is not a flatterer" John grins against Sherlock's collarbone.

 

"That belongs on the Reasons to Love John Watson list actually."

____

 

<Rosie called me Papa today. SH>

<Did John indicate in any way that his title should be used to refer to me? SH>

<I would prefer him not to get angry with me about this. SH>

<As his best female friend, you should know. SH>

<She did? That’s lovely. The little cutie. And yes, John refers to you as her Papa all the time.>

<Oh. SH>

<Good. SH>

<Didn’t you know?>

<I barely listen to what he says, Molly. Have you seen his face? It is very distracting. SH>

<Oh, you are such a romantic.>

<Am not. SH>

<Papa is a good title to have. SH>

<Suits you.>

_____

“Oh, hello my darling.” Molly takes Rosie to from him as soon as the door opens. “It’s so good to see you. You look very smart today. I like the pigtails.”

“One can barely call them pigtails. Those curls are untameable.” John steps into the flat and hugs Molly around his daughter. “Hello, Molls.”

“I love her hair. At least she got that from Mary. Everything else is your Daddy, isn’t it?” Molly carefully puts Rosie on the floor and starts unbuttoning her red coat.

“The poor girl.” John smirks, taking the jacket and putting it on one of the hooks next to the door. Molly’s flat is the cosiest place John has ever been in. It reminds him a little of her patterned jumpers. It has lots of cat figurines, and she has bright pictures on the wall. But then, the books remind him very much of what Sherlock reads, from anatomy to real crime. The contrast is stark, but it also reflects Molly well, John thinks.

Timmy, Molly’s cat, comes from the open door of the living room, and Rosie squeals in delight. She barely lets Molly take her shoes off before she runs to him and sits down to pet him. She is careful, even in her enthusiasm. That’s Sherlock’s doing. He has introduced her to nearly every pet in Baker Street, and she knows cats don’t like being dragged around by toddlers. John feels proud, but then he feels proud of everything she does.

“I think she is very pretty. And she has a good heart. She is a perfect, little girl.” Molly watches Rosie and Timmy, and John stands next to her, following her gaze.

“Thank you so much for taking care of her tonight, Molly. I packed you a bag, but you can just come to the flat if you need anything. Can I just text you when we’re back?”

“Of course. I have the week off, anyway, and I’m happy to spend it with my favourite little girl. And a triple murder sounds very exciting. You haven’t had a case in such a long time.”

“True. The Mister was going crazy already. He texted me five times on my way here that I should hurry up, because it has been too long since he has seen a corpse.” He leans down to kiss Rosie’s cheek. “Be a good girl for Molly, okay? I love you, Rose bud.”

She looks up at him, smiles, then returns to playing with Timmy.

So, John dashes off to be with his consulting detective.

_____

<Mrs. Hudson and you are alone on the godparent front now.>

"John, oh my god, are you okay? Should i come over? I'm sure you can fix this, whatever happened between you. You were made for each other and Rosie adores Sherlock. Isn’t it a little harsh to just cut him off from her that way? John, I think…”

"Hey, hey, Molly. Everything is alright. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done this via text. I just had to tell someone, and didn’t think you’d be able to talk on the phone during your conference. Sherlock is not Rosie's godfather anymore, because I asked him to adopt her. You are right, they adore each other. And I want that to be official. "

"You... Oh my god. I almost had a heart attack. That is wonderful, John."

“He had tears in is eyes, can you believe it? Sherlock Holmes almost cried.”

“Oh, the poor soul. He was probably overwhelmed with all the feelings.”

“Yeah, he was.”

“How did you do it?”

“I wrote ‘Will you adopt Rosie’ on a piece of paper and folded it up into a ring box. He was convinced I wanted to propose. He thinks marriage is a stupid concept, and was already planning what to say to let me down gently.”

“Oh, you two. Pranking him like that.”

“Just a little tease. He likes them, they keep him on his feet.”

“I need to go back in, John. I’m so happy for the three of you. And don’t ever shock me like that again.”

“Thank you. And I can’t promise that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on chapter 3 parallel to writing an important paper for uni. So it might take a while :) 
> 
> If you guys want to come chat with me, find me on Instagram: nerd.with.tattoos.


	3. Chapter 3

 

“Oh, wow, Molly. Your hair looks amazing.” John gets up from where he was sitting in the lab and walks towards her. Molly grins at him and accepts an awkward hug around two coffee cups.

“I heard you two where doing something creepy again, Mike’s words, and though I’d get you coffee.” She hands him one mug, ignoring his compliment, but he has spotted her smile and slight blush.

“No time for coffee, Molly. This needs to be observed constantly.” Sherlock scoffs from his place in front of the microscope. He looks lovely, all science-y and focused, John thinks. As much as he loves it when they cuddle on the sofa with Rosie or share a tender moment in the early morning, this is the part of Sherlock he first fell in love with, right here in this lab. And before Molly came in, he had just spent over an hour looking at his beautiful man.

“Guess that means we have time for gossip, don’t we? The weather is gorgeous, why don’t we take this outside, before I have to get back into the basement?”

John nods and walks over to drop a kiss on Sherlock’s head. “Be right back, not that you’ll miss me for now. Text me if you need anything.”

“Hmppff.” Sherlock says, and John knows it means “Okay, John. Thank you, I will. Now go away, you annoy me.”

They walk over to Princess Alice Garden and find an empty bench, where they sit down. “Rosie’s in playgroup?”

“Yeah. Her fourth day today. I worry constantly, and I expect the call from one of the staff every second, asking me to pick her up early. But she loves it. She just tells me goodbye and goes off to play. No fussing, no tears.” John chuckles. “I’m proud, of course. She’s so clever. But I miss her all the time, which is stupid. I work, so I barely see her until three or four, but knowing that she is grown up enough to have her own schedule and go to playgroup every day... Sorry, I’m rambling. Children get more independent, everyone knows that.”

Molly grins. “You are such a dad.”

“Believe it or not, Sherlock is worse. I think he got used to taking care of her in the mornings. And now that she is out of the house, but the ‘child proof rules’ are still in effect, he can’t even shoot the wall. Guess the two of us will just have to adapt.”

“He’s bored? That explains a lot.” Molly looks into the direction of St. Bart’s

“Explains what? What has he done?”

“The hair. He suggested I cut it, sent me links to fashion websites. He argued that shorter hair would suit my face shape. He went on for days, until I finally snapped and just did it.”

“That sounds just like him. Is he your gay best friend now?” John takes a sip of coffee to hide his smile.

“You’re my gay best friend, John. I can’t have two.”

“You can. And anyway, I’m your bi best friend. There’s a difference.”

They grin at each other like lunatics, and that’s all they do for a while.

“You know what I like most about the hair?”

“What?”

“Your confidence. It suits you."

* * *

 

 

“She has a new boyfriend.”

"How do you know?"

"Red hair on her jumper, just at her shoulder. Short, so a man's. They shared a long hug. Molly only hugs those very close to her and she only has female friends, with you being the exception. He's a ginger, so I hope this is not another Tom-situation."

“Come here.”

“Hmm… that was a very lovely kiss, John. Just what exactly was it for?"

"You deduced all of that and didn't say it out loud so as not to embarrass her. I'm just rewarding good behaviour.”

* * *

 

“There wasn’t a moment where I thought, okay, 7:38 pm, I’m officially not in love with Sherlock anymore. I guess it just took some time. And when I was able to let Henry in, to fall in love and be happy, that’s when I knew I had finally done it.” Molly smiles and takes a sip of her beer. “And I didn’t tell you, because I was afraid, in the beginning, that this was just me being desperate to find someone new.”

“Like I did with Mary.”

“Like I did with Tom.”

They are quiet for a while, lost in memory. John had loved Mary. He had loved her enough to want to be married to her, spend the rest of their lives together. But that had been when he thought Sherlock was dead. And even though she was wonderful, funny and smart, she could never have compared to him.

“Henry must be very special, then.” John says, and her eyes make words unnecessary. Maybe Molly saw just that same expression on his face, when John finally got together with Sherlock and they met in that café.

“He is. Two weeks ago, he brought his cat to my flat, so she could meet Timmy. He said that our pets getting along is very important, because they are such essential parts of our lives. And Timmy loved Mini. He hates other cats. I tried getting him a friend three times, and he hated them all. But he loves Mini. We sat on the sofa that night, and he asked me about my work. He’s a crime writer. I love his books, and he is really interested in what I do. Sorry, I’m talking too much. He’s amazing, John. He really is.”

“Don’t be sorry, Molls. I talk about Sherlock all the time, and way too much. I owe you. And anyway, as soon as Greg arrives, all we’re going to talk about is football, anyway.”

“He’s not that shallow.” Molly nudges his shoulder with her right elbow. “But you’re right. He might not be interested much in our boys.”

“Cheers to that.”

“We should officially resolve PSULSH.”

“You kicked me out years ago. I thought it was done.” John has totally forgotten about their stupid club.

“I know. But I was, sort of, the last remaining member until recently. Now, I left as well. For good. So, let’s just end it, once and for all.”

“Agreed. To the end of PSULSH.

“To the end of PSULSH.”

* * *

 

“Sherloooock.”

“John.”

“I’m a little drunk.”

“Yes, I figured that much. How was your pub night with Graham and Molly?”

“Nice. They are very nice. The very best of friends. Wait, no, you are my best friend, but right after that. Oh, and I have news about the boyfriend. He’s…”

“John, I doubt Molly would appreciate you talking about this on the bus. You don’t have a lot of control over your volume right now.”

“Oh, since when do you care about that?”

“She’s my friend. And you are drunk.”

“But I need to talk to yoooou! We’re stuck in this stupid traffic and I’m booooored.”

“Well, I have a suggestion. Connect your headphones to your phone, and I’ll play the violin for you.”

“I don’t -”

“They are in your left jacket pocket, John, as always.”

“Hmm. That’s a lovely song. Thank you, Sher. Not bored anymore. Just a little tired.”

“John? John?”

* * *

 

 

“God, my head hurts.” John buries it back into the pillow to avoid the bright sun coming in through the bedroom window. A cool hand finds the small of his back, as Sherlock wraps an arm around him.

“Good morning,” Sherlock whispers, but he could have been yelling, because John’s head throbs even more. He grumbles and lifts his arms to cover his ears. He can feel the mattress vibrating a little with Sherlock’s chuckle. “It is almost eight, and I doubt Rosie will be asleep much longer. So, I recommend you get over this quickly. I left a glass of water and some pain pills on the bedside table for you.”

John smiles into the pillow. Never in his life would he have expected for Sherlock to be so caring, but he is. He’s wonderful. AndJjohn remembers not shutting up about him yesterday, his tongue loosened by the alcohol. Hungover John is a little sorry for Greg and Molly, but mostly for himself.

“God, the last time I felt like this was at uni. I don’t even remember getting home.” He feels Sherlock’s lips against his neck. He’s grinning.

“That’s because you fell asleep on the bus. Luckily, I was able to deduce where exactly you were and picked you up. You were lovely, very affectionate.”

John turns his head as quickly as it is possible, which is not very quickly at all. “Oh, god. How…?”

“Well, I was on the phone with you. I suggested playing for you, and that helped shut you up, but it also apparently lulled you to sleep.”

“So, it’s all your fault, in the end?” John grins and accepts a kiss on the cheek.

“As always. How about I deal with le petite coeur this morning, and you can tell me all about Henry when you feel better?”

“That sounds lovely. Wait, how do you know his name is Henry?” Sherlock gets up from the bed and walks to the door. Once there, he turns around, smiles and winks. “I’m a genius, John. Do keep up.”

* * *

 

“We embarrassed her in front of her boyfriend.”

“We had sex in our own flat, John. They were the ones who just barged in without knocking.”

“We knew they were on their way here. We should have not done that. God, she’ll hate me.”

“Somehow, you make it sound like it was all my fault, John, which it was not. I might have initiated our lovemaking, but you did not object for a second.”

“Because I love our lovemaking, Sherlock.”

“Then why are we arguing?”

“Because Molly is serious about Henry and his first impression of us was my butt and your shanks. Why the hell did we do it over the desk anyway?”

“Because we have a child and the thought of doing it somewhere that is not the bed or the shower excites us.”

“It was very exciting. God, I don’t even know how to fix this. I’ll have to call her.”

* * *

 

 

<We got coffee. Are you guys decent, now?>

<We are. So sorry, Molly. Come on up. Mrs. Hudson made cake.>

<Alright, we’ll be there in five minutes.>

 

* * *

“This is me, and this is Daddy. And you, over here with Nana Hudson. And Auntie Molly.” Rosie looks proud of her drawing, and John wants to kiss her. She looks adorable with the colour everywhere on her. She has also covered most of the kitchen table, somehow. Sherlock is leaning over her shoulder and carefully listening to every detail. He’ always very attentive to her, like everything that comes out of Rosamund Mary Watson’s mouth is the most interesting thing. John finds it endearing.

“You will have to make Molly’s belly a little bigger, Rosie.” Sherlock combs his fingers through their daughter’s hair.

“Why would you say that? It’s rude, Sherlock.”

“She’s approximately eleven weeks, now.”

John almost drops his water. “Oh god, did you just deduce another pregnancy?”

Sherlock looks up with a smile. “She already did the test and told Henry. She’s just waiting to tell us until the first trimester is over.”

“Oh my god. She’s having a baby.” John feels giddy with happiness.

“And you also should add a ring to your daddy’s finger.” Sherlock points at the blotches of paint that represent John. Rosie looks up at him in confusion. “What ring?”

“One like this.” Sherlock picks something small out of his pocket and places it on the kitchen table.

“You don’t even believe in marriage.” John gasps. How is this happening right now?

“I believe in us, John.”

“You are a madman.” John’s hands are shaking, and he presses them to his lips. “Are you going to ask me?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Oh, god, yes.” He doesn’t remember much after that, just kisses and Rosie’s giggles, and then there is a ring on his finger. He feels overwhelmed. He is going to get married to the love of his life. Sherlock Holmes proposed to him. His best friend is going to have a baby. Right in this moment, everything is perfect.

* * *

 

 

“I’m getting married.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Sherlock deduced it.”

“Of course he did. How did you propose?”

“I didn’t, he did. How did you find out?”

“We’ve been trying. I know, it’s only been a year, but we are not getting any younger and we both wanted this and then it worked out sooner than we expected.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

“And I’m happy for you.”

“Give us a hug, Molly.”

* * *

“It is known to everyone in this room that Molly used to be in love with me. Henry knows that, and he also knows it is a thing of the past. I promised my husband I would not bring this up and I realize now that the bride is blushing profusely, he was right. Anyway, the cat is out of the bag, and Molly likes cats, so, let me continue. Molly was in love with me, and back then I gave her a list, of reasons why she should not love me. And when I met Henry, I checked him against this list to  be sure he was right for her. I have written an essay on the topic, but have been told to keep it short. So, I therefore present you some of the main points of my results.

“Henry does not have sociopathic tendencies, he is neither rude nor is being with him potentially dangerous. He has not been associated with drugs in the past, and maybe most importantly, Henry is not gay.

“In shorter words, he is an acceptable man, objectively speaking, and a perfect match for Molly Elisabeth Hooper.

“I have not expected to be in this position again, especially after being accused of making my last best man speech a love confession. This is not a love confession to Molly Hooper. This is me telling her in the best way I can that she is a wonderful friend and kind human being, too kind for people like me to deserve her. And I know Henry is going to treat her right and with the love she deserves.

“Molly and Henry, I want to wish you all the best for your time together, may your love last unto the borders of mortality. To you, and your son Timothy, may you be healthy and happy. I also want to mention that this speech was partially written by John, as I am not a kind man. Thank you for your attention.”

* * *

 

 

Dear Molly,

How are you? Our new house is amazing. Sherlock picked the perfect little place for us. It fits us now just as much as Baker Street fit the younger versions of us. This is the place I will spend the rest of my life, with my brilliant, beautiful husband, and the thought makes me giddy with excitement.

We both miss Rosie so much. I’m proud of her, but she is still my little girl and I want her with me all the time. Can you believe she started college already? Just you wait, Timothy will do the same sooner than you’ll know (not that I want to scare you).

How are your boys? Mine is doing very well. I could get a little jealous of the bees, if I were the jealous type. And Rosie is enjoying college very much. She comes to visit us every other Sunday, which is cute, I think. You know, I there are so many moments when I couldn’t have done it without you. When Mary died, you took care of Rosie, because I couldn’t, and I can never make that up to you. I just hope that you know what a good friend you are and that I love you. I can’t wait to see you at the end of the month.

Yours, John

_____

 

Dear John,

I’m so happy to hear from you. I love the whole letter thing. It’s very appropriate for old people.

My boys and I are doing fine. Henry just finished his latest book. He insists I ask you again about cooperating for a series about Sherlock. And I think it would be a wonderful idea to share your adventures with everyone. And you are a good writer. People miss your blog. I miss it.

Timmy is still a baby, John. He is fourteen. Don’t talk about scary things like growing up. He just started dance class last month. He’s really good, and I’m not just saying that because I’m his mom.

I’m not good with words, John, so I’ll just hug you when we meet, and I mean a really long hug. I love you to, you grumpy old man.

I’ll email you the details about our visit. Can’t wait to see the house. All the love to the other grumpy old man.

yours,

Molly

* * *

 

 

Mr. and Dr. Watson-Holmes are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter, Rosamund Mary Watson-Holmes, to Timothy Hooper, son of Mr. and Dr. Hooper, on the 3rd of June. A celebratory reception is planned for the 3rd of June at the Watson-Holmes cottage in Fletching, East Sussex.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so much fun to explore Molly a little more. I always liked her, and thought she had so much potential as a strong female character in the Show. I hope you like what I made of her <3
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I thought about uploading "story corpses", stories I started but never finished. Maybe, together we could revive them. I have seen what wonderful things happen, when different minds work together. What do you guys think?


End file.
